The Lonely Friend
by Sundiel260
Summary: Friends? What a strange word. Friends. Looking down at the small Digimon hugging his leg, he couldn't help but feel a small twing of warmth in his chest. Friends. It suddenly donned on him. This tiny imp, that savories small cub, the child prophesied to lead the kingdom the glory and light, considered him, his guardian, a friend. And for some reason, it made him feel...happy.
1. The Stroy Begins

Most stories are based on fiction, most on true stories, others that are mixed up in truth and fable, that sometimes it's hard to tell which from which. But there's one story that stands out from all stories.

Now, before you continue reading this, picture this inside your head.

You're a lonely child. You have no friends, you have no parents, you've been locked up for most of your life, and you never been anywhere near to nothing on what's out there beside some books and a few recorders that are the only source to knowledge. Now, image a deep, deep, longing inside you.

Something that nags at the back of your brain each day for something new and different. Something that you would trade anything just to get it. Something that would imply you to do something that you never thought you would do in your life and risk it.

This just happened to happen to a certain young lonely child, who did just that. Now then, the story begins high…high, high, high, HIGH up in the sky. High out of your reach, and beyond your wildest dreams.

* * *

><p>High up in the sky, far into the clouds, beyond the mountains reach, and safe from the ruins of the world bellow, a peaceful, quiet, tranquil city flies above the world. The days were always sunny, and the view of the night was always clear. Streets were safe to play in for the children, and life was easy going. Few ever had to worry, and many could enjoy their life to the fullest.<p>

Everything looked so peaceful down there. So…why was he always stuck in here, and not down there?

It was boring being stuck in the same place all the time. He did everything he could in a place like this, yet he wanted **more**! As far back as he could even remember he was confined in this place, with nothing to do except draw, or explore, listen to a tape recorder, or even let his imagination take over to amuse himself for a little bit before realization came back and fling him into boredom again. It was a little bit fun when he was just a tad bit younger, but after two whole years of being stuck in the same place with the same things to do, it finally caught up to him that this place felt like…what was the word?

Trap? Unable to escape? He knew there was a word for this, it was just unable to come to him. Just like how he will never be able to go to the city. And for that…it made him feel lonely inside.

Others were allowed to go out and about down there, but he was confined up here, away from all the different things down there. Away from something different.

He sighed, turning away from the window and looked around his 'home'. It was much, yet it wasn't bad either. The walls were covered in dark blue wallpaper that complemented the lighter blue on the floor, with tall empty bookshelves in the wall, few occupied by tape recorder here and there. There was a doorway on either side of the room. Left was the bedroom, right was the kitchen. But next to the left doorway was something that he always pondered on. It wasn't a doorway, but something deep inside him, some itty-bitty concuss, somewhere in the back of his head, something told him that behind there…was freedom.

0.o.0.o.0

Most of the day went by rather slowly, seeming for hours before it was time for lunch.

The kitchen wasn't very much like a kitchen, but all the food was stored here, so it was like a kitchen. After climbing the last step, he went directly for the small frigid that was placed in a corner and opened it. Not much was inside, only bottles that contained some sort of soup that had no real taste to it.

It was all that he ate, besides bread. And that was all that was stocked in the cabinets. Taking a bottle out and closing the frigid, he over to the other end of the room. A small counter, stacked with cups and plates on top, stood there.

Taking a small cup, he unscrewed the lid and pored the inside contents into the cup. Placing the now empty bottle aside, he proceeded to stare at the cup. It was wooden, finely crafted and smoothed so no splinters would stick out and prick someone. It was special, but more pacifically, maybe he was just content at starring at it. It went on for a few moments, till his eyes spotted something at the edge of the cup. Reaching out and grasping the top, he spun it around till he got the full view of the image and stare at it.

It was a creature, one that had an impression of a robot, yet a monster at the same time. It barely looked like it had any flesh, but the fur and pointed ears that jotted out from behind that mask it wore around its head said otherwise. Three huge curved claws were on each arm and feet, metal bindings were attached to its legs and arms, blots and screws were placed here and there on the beast, long lose wires stuck out from the tip of its tail, and it eyes could hold the impression to kill without regret or remorse. It was fine detailed, everything down to the last curve. Underneath the image were words that were carved long into the wood along with the carving.

DexDorugamon

He continued to stare at it till his hunger got the best of him. Sighing, he gulped down the tasteless liquid, having DexDorugamon's image play in his mind. He wondered, just a bit, if this creature was ever real.

0.o.0.o.0

The rest of the day went by, nothing new, nothing to do, just the same every day. When the sky had started to turn dark, he was more than happy to be heading to bed than staying up than ever.

His room didn't have much to it. It didn't have windows, there was only a bed and a small stool with a lamp post on top beside it. On one side of the room was a bathroom, complete with a toilet and bathtub and sink. It was alright. The bed sheets were comfy, and the lamp gave off a good amount of light for him to read any books he wanted to catch up on.

Climbing up after washing up, he took one look at a certain wall. Taped or glued on were pictures that he drew himself, some depicting the places his books or the record player had mentioned. Africa, Asia, France, China, and even London. Instantly, he felt a twang of pain his heart. Oh, how he just longed to go there. To go to any place he drew on the wall. To see the sights for himself and taste the foods. To dance and be out and about with no walls closing him in. To talk with someone.

…With anyone.

…Just, one little talk with someone.

…Just…one tiny…word.

…With…someone…


	2. The Guardian and Sibbling Talk

In a word that would describe that city that floated above the ground, there would be many words. But none would bet that there was indeed one word that depicted the city, as its inhabitants have long since felt this feeling every night when the sun was almost gone and the stars would appear. When someone would try and rush home and cower a bit in bed before they slept. When darkness covered it in blackness that even virus type are too scared to venture out in the open. For one word they felt each night was all thanks to something that they all felt towards it.

Fear.

It wasn't an understatement, or exaggeration. Everyone, who to someone that didn't live there and thought it was all joy and happiness, knew there was one thing that kept everyone on their toes, high alert, and kept all locks locked up at night.

Nobody questioned it, nobody dared to oppose it, nobody even thought of staying outside at night. It was all because they feared…him.

Who is him? Why to put it simply, he is the guardian of the city. The king of the sky, the ruler of justice and keeper of peace. But at night when the sky was dark, he was the reaper of the city, the fear in everyone's hearts. Nobody knew where he came from, or how it became the way it was, but everyone knew it would protect them as long as they obeyed the rules and didn't cause trouble.

Still, no one would dare try anything. He was far too strong and powerful to be brought down. That's how they created him, strong, powerful, speed, agility, all these things and more. Still, it would take years to figure out what made him tick. No one knew. No one…except her.

~0~o~0~

His wings glided through the air, cutting through it as he circled the outer part of the city, his eyes scanned the ground for anything that was ruining the city. He was programed to do so. Yet, he felt off for some reason. For three whole years, he did the same thing. Patrol, guard, attack. Patrol, guard, attack. Every, single, time! He may not look like it, but deep inside, he _has_ feelings too…nobody ever saw it though. Nobody ever did. They were too afraid of him to even know. They wouldn't to talk to him. They wouldn't stand around him. They would just scream and run when they saw him. Heck, even a few had fainted on the near sight of him just flying by!

But, that was his life. Created in hopes to keep everything in line and keep the peace. But, so far for a whole two months nothing happened for him to take action. And that sort of got on his nerves. Sure it met peace for the civilians, but it meant nothing to him if there was nothing for him to do except patrol the city. And he **HATED** patrolling the city! Still, if it meant it kept him from going back to his prison, far away from her as possible, he'd take it in a single flap of his wings.

When he gaze left the ground to the direction he was going, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. It was big. It was made out of metal. And it had a shape of a Digimon that towered over the city. Inside his mind he knew just by looking the armor on its body, the hat that covered the eyes, and the sword it held up high above in its right hand just who that was.

The prophet's child, the little cub, the seed to lead all to glory and light.

Mistymon.

For the moment, all he could do was stare at it. He never knew much about him, but from what little info, he knew that he would lead on when the prophet himself died. And it was his job to watch over him when that happened. Quick as a blink of an eye his vision turned red. That no good vile lay back! He thought. He bet that Mistymon was having the time of his life, enjoy the foods his servants gave him, totally laid back. But here he was patrolling the city.

He didn't care if one day he would be guarding him, he knew deep down inside that he would never consider him anything more than dust that needed to be blown away.

~0~o~0~

The song. It called to him. It beckoned him. It controlled him. Yet, each time it did, he felt a little happy. The song was special to him. It made him feel wanted. It made him feel safe. It told him where and what to do in a short calm melody. It was much better than being told what to do.

Where it was, he knew. Just by hearing it there drawn him in. He knew where it was, yet he didn't bother turning around or flying off in a different direction. It welcomed him.

Gliding across the sky till a large platform came in to his line of sight, he descended, keeping his body positioned for the landing as he came closer and closer to his destination. Nearing the final few feet, he gave his wings a couple of good strong flaps coming to a complete stop in his descent, and landed easily to the ground, causing it to shake momentarily due to his weight.

He didn't bother moving, he knew _she_ would be the one to come out and get him. And he was right, for two minutes later, a slim figure stepped onto the platform, making her way towards him in small steps that her suite would allow her to take. Tilting his head, he gave her a once over, making sure it was really her.

Her suite was the same, proper woman's wear in black color, matching with her black low heel shoes. Her ghost white hair was still in that ponytail braid. And she still held that board and calm look on her pale white face as she walked towards him. Yep. It was her. His creator. Miss. Valintime. The city's most brilliant mind and science expert.

The only one not to be scarred or intimidated by him.

She stopped a mere 6 inches in front of him, arms crossed as she studied him. Then, seeming satisfied, walked closer to him and placed her right hand on his snout, tapping it two times and stepping back. He snorted, shaking his body and looked at her expectantly.

"Follow."

That was all she said before she turned around and started to head back. And he did. He followed her to the metal doors that served the only keyway in and out of his prison. But he didn't care at the moment, the music was calling him.

~o~0~o~0~o~

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

She didn't need to look up from the book she was reading at the moment to know she was being glared at from across the room. It was early, around six in the morning. She knew her companion often like to talk around this time of day before they set to work.

"You know what I mean."

"And what would you mean?"

"DexDorugamon. How are you so calm around it?"

This time, she did look up. The Digimon sitting across from her looked at her with the same calm demeanor she had, except his seemed to have more of a childish look of curiosity in his red ruby eyes.

"We all know the risks of being around him, yet you act like he's no more than a simple leaf."

"Well, that _simple leaf_, just happens to be my greatest accomplishment and the most successful so far from the others."

Her gaze fell back on the book, tracing over the words carefully as she memorized each word.

"Greatest accomplishment? My dear sister, a floating city above the sky and earth is your greatest accomplishment!"

"Not really. I don't take pride in something that does not have purpose."

"Really?"

"Really."

"But, surely you don't mean you don't see what a great life you have given these Digimon?"

"…Brother. Have you seen the animal Digimon?"

"…well, no I haven't. I've been in my study doing-"

The sound of a book snapping shut stopped him in his words. Silence hung between them, brother starring at his sister, sister glaring daggers at her brother, book held between her face trembling in her hand.

"Jack Valintime."

He continued to stare at her, more surprised than ever. He knew his sister well, and he knew she very much kept her cool in various situations. But by the way she glared at him and her hands shaking, and possibly damaging, the book she held in her hand, and stated his name to him, he knew he had struck a very thin patience cord.

Hard.

"Jenny?"

"Jack, **I've** _seen_ them!"

Her words came out in a slow, harsh tone that made Jack flinch.

"I…I've seen them. Living below the city and treated like…_garbage!_"

His sister must be acting out in rage, why else would he dodge a uncoordinated book thrown at the wall beside his head? But this didn't stop him from worrying about her. Jenny never really used his name much, as he never much used her name either. But when either did, it was only when one was upset or angry with something or someone. And by the way his sister was now pacing the floor, arms crossed and muttering the factors of reality, he was fairly certain she was fuming with rage that clearly needed to be let out for a very long time now. Thinking it best to let her pace the room and let her anger seethe down, he let his mind wonder.

Nothing much came to mind, he wasn't really one to have a straight a hardcore mind like his sibling. But then again, it was probably do to the stress of work put on her. The city, the beast, the child…aaaaah, the child. He nearly forgotten the poor boy. He couldn't say how much it bugged him. A poor child, taken away from freedom, flung into solitude with no one to have but his imagination, record players, and books to keep him company. It must be dreadfully boring being up there. It would drive someone mad! But from what he had seen while researching and studying the boy, he seemed to be in check. The child seemed above normal child behavior, though. He seemed to understand things better than what a normal five year old should know.

He could see potential in the boy's eyes, and he yearned to go and introduce himself to him, show him the many thing that were prevented from ever greeting the child's eyes, but the orders were harsh and strict. No one was ever to interact with the child till he was ready to lead after the prophet had left the world…for some reason, he felt that there was irony in that sentence. After all, prophets were supposed to be pure and not vampires right?

His thoughts drifted back to the child. A small boy, no more than ten inches in height, clad in dark purple with a pure white face and jade green summer eyes. Three small white toes on each foot, a small tail on the rear, and a yellow smile face with pointed grinning teeth. Red silk gloves covered both three fingered hands with a matching red bandana around the neck. A small horn stuck out on the right side of the head, but the left was all but a small stump, never to grow back ever. Sad for a young Impmon really.

"Did you hear me?"

His thoughts were interrupted by his sister's voice.

"Hum?"

"I said I was going to check on the child."

"…"

He rose to his feet, a small smile plastered on his face as he stood a mere few more inches taller than her.

"Mind if I join you?"

"…A pleasure."


End file.
